OOC: Sooo...I figured this forum could do with some roleplay. So here it be! The basic idea: a marketplace. People can meet, tell stories, sell fruit, steal, gamble, fight, etc. Do whatever you please. Lets get RP back to Canon, yay! \o/

IC:

" Mellons for sale! Who will buy my mellons! They are full and juicy!!! Meeeelons!"- " Trinklets, trinklets, who will buy my trinklets?"" A new dress madam? You could use one!"- " Need a wee? Take a pee at Loo-y Lee's affordable toilets and you'll never go behind a tree! Cheap prices!"" Fish for sale! Fine fish for sale! Caught with the finest rods in tonan, almost as good as the almighty fishingrod itself!"- "Raise your voice and take a gamble at Dice 'r us!"

In theory, a marketplace is a simple concept: one group of people sell their products, and another group buys said products. In practice, a marketplace is a cacaphony of one group of people that screams and another group that wonders about in bewilderment.

Amidst the ovewhelming activity of the marketplace, a new voice was raised. Count Blah had only just arrived and, after negotiating with the Marketplace masters, he had been granted the right to set up his Funny Hat Stand. On display were a great variety of hilarious hats: a bonnet made of straw, a wizard's hat with a questionmark-print, a pink tutu and, of course, a beaver turned inside out, a favourite amongst boy scouts.

The purple vampyre looked at his wares with pride. He had made most of these himself, some were left to him by his uncle Stetson and some he simply found along the side of the road. Before embarking on this hatselling adventure, he had studied this marketplace well. It had everything: greengrocers, prostitutes, gambling facilities, tailors, sailors, fishmongers, nutsalesmen and a variety of street artists. What it lacked, however, was a place that selled silly hats. An odd fact, considering the amount of silly heads.

Amidst the many market stands, one stood out because of its sheer lack of customers. Its owner was Methusalai, an aged daemoness, who had started her own enterprise, called "The Bugged Bakery, for all your Verminous Victuals!". Presently, she was trying out new slogans to renew the people's interest...

"Save energy on swallowing, have your food crawl down your throat!!!"

"Homemade products! Will multiply itself in drafty areas!"

The old crone sighed and looked at her marketstand, still filled with all kinds of pastry, ranging from a dungbeetle danish to a spider-filled pancake, from a creepy crawler croissant to her infamous cootie cake. "It has been four days since I sold anything!", the old daemoness thought, wrinkling her forehead, "and even had to give that customer a refund! I can't help it if people expect my cookies to be poisoned! It does say verminous, not venomous? Oh no, I have my standards!" With that, she whacked her cane at one of the donuts that had begun to move.

"Get my sweet stuff here, all fresh from my oven!!! Whoooooo wants to get his hand in my cookie-jar!?!?"

Although that last slogan bought her a few angry glances from the loose women-stand next to her, she was satisfied to see that it seemed to have succeeded its purpose. Because as soon as she had said it, she could see not one, but two people dashing towards her foodstand.

"Can I offer you a flan of flies, perhaps? Or are you more of the pest-y panettone types of gents!?"

The first person to arrive at her stand, apparently wearing a piece of pottery on his head, puffed and grabbed one of Methusalai's silverfish strudels and, much to her surprise, threw it at the purple furred vampire that appeared to be chasing him. The crockery-hatted creature turned rapidly around and ran in another direction. Hot on his trail was the vampire, whose face was now stuffed with strudel.

"Heyy!!!???!!! Who's going to pay for that!?"

Tue Dec 30, 2008 4:51 pm

Crematori

Stablehand

Joined: Sun Jul 12, 2009 8:29 pmPosts: 1

Re: The Miraculously Mesmeric Market (open to all)

Having witnessed the vampire chasing the surprisingly nimble dwarf off through the crowd and realizing that the demoness just might get peeved at the lack of payment for what looked like a strudel, the gray haired sojourner dropped two bits on the counter and asked politely..."Will that cover the cost of the pastry?"

Apparently appeased as the two bits suddenly were whisked off to Gods only knows where. Uncle Scotty inquired about the unusually bright pink puff ball pastries on display. "Exactly what are those and can a poor man afford them?"

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